


silver in our lungs

by TulipAnthousa (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT NSFW [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Gentle Dom Virgil, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Porn with Feelings, Sub Logic | Logan Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-16 13:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/TulipAnthousa
Summary: Virgil definitely didn’t expect “Operation Pester Logan Into Proper Self-Care” to go like… this.He’s definitely not complaining.





	silver in our lungs

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from "Spectrum" by Florence + the Machine (who is right up there with Hozier on the tender-but-horny scale imo)
> 
> thanks to [@trivia-goddess](trivia-goddess.tumblr.com) for 1) beta reading this and 2) not roasting me while she did it because _hoo_ was a bitch *ahem* distracted while writing this shit

Logan was hiding.

Logan did that a lot, and it never got less irritating.

Especially when he’d come back from his first year away at school armed with the knowledge that he had enough plant in him to subsist on air and sunlight, a fact that constantly drove Virgil, Patton, and Roman absolutely insane.

So now they frequently played Virgil’s least favorite version of hide and seek. Logan, hiding away somewhere to do his summer online class (which Virgil fervently thanked Dot Sanders in his head for letting him only take one), pretending that living on water and sitting-in-front-of-windows was acceptable – and literally everyone else trying to track him down and bully him into _actually taking care of himself._

Virgil let out a sigh.

Well. If he wasn’t going to do it, Virgil was.

Even when he was trying to be unpredictable, Logan’s thought processes were easy to follow. He probably thought Virgil’s room was the last place Virgil would look – too obvious.

But Logan liked quiet, and he liked familiar – when Virgil opened the door slowly to keep silent, Logan was barely visible around the side of the chair at Virgil’s desk, chewing on a pen.

Virgil shut the door just as silently. He moved to the little cupboard Patton kept snacks in for when he wasn’t feeling up to going after Virgil for food. Logan was so absorbed in whatever he was doing he didn’t notice.

Virgil retrieved a little plastic container of what looked like blackberries – or possibly mulberries. Virgil wasn’t a plant person.

He popped one in his mouth.

Blackberry, then. He crossed the room, setting the container on the bedside table.

And then he went after Logan, who let out a startled “Hey!” when Virgil plucked the pen out of his grip and unceremoniously scooped him up out of the chair.

“Get your book,” he said.

“Virgil, what the _hell!”_

“If you don’t get it now, it stays over here,” said Virgil flatly.

Logan scowled, leaning over and grabbing the book off the desk.

Virgil carried him over to the bed, sitting up against the headboard and positioning a still-frowning Logan in his lap. Picking a blackberry out of the dish, Virgil held it out in front of Logan’s mouth.

“Are you _kidding?”_ said Logan acidly.

“When was the last time you ate?” said Virgil, pointed.

“I had breakfast,” said Logan, too quickly.

“I didn’t ask what _meal_, I asked for the _time_,” said Virgil, “And honestly now I’m even _more_ sure you’re staying here. You can keep studying, but you _are_ going to be eating the fruit, Logan,”

The last time Virgil had referred to the expression Logan was wearing as a pout, Logan hadn’t spoken to him for an hour. Virgil decided to keep it to himself this time.

Logan huffed, opening his mouth, and Virgil plopped the berry in just quick enough to avoid the petulant click of Logan’s teeth.

“Whiner,” said Virgil.

“Fusspot,”

“That’s hilariously ironic, coming from you,” said Virgil, and when Logan when to fire back Virgil cut him off with a second blackberry. Logan gave another huff, turned to the book in his lap, and started pointedly ignoring Virgil except for the perfunctory opening and closing of his jaw.

They spent a minute or two like that, Logan reading and Virgil absently placing the berries in his mouth. It was almost meditative, the turn-and-pluck and the brief wait for Logan to cooperate, Virgil popping the fruit in. Repetitive enough to be soothing, important enough to be interesting.

And then it got a whole different kind of interesting.

Logan’s mouth closed around the berry a little faster this time, and Virgil resisted the urge to look smug. He _knew_ Logan had to be hungry, that Seelie trick of his wasn’t nearly enough-

Virgil pulled his hand away, and just as he did there was low, nearly inaudible sound.

Virgil didn’t react, but only barely. He turned to grab another blackberry from the bowl, but watched Logan out of the corner of his eye.

Flushed, though not quite the red Virgil _really_ liked. He was still looking at the book, but Virgil would bet quite a few things he wasn’t actually reading it, from the way his eyes were glazed and his pupils were a little wide. But Logan’s expression was as serene as ever.

Well… if it was a _game_ he wanted…

Virgil schooled his face into something neutral, turned back and held the fruit near Logan’s mouth again.

Logan opened his lips, and Virgil pressed it to his tongue, and didn’t take his hand away.

A pause, and Logan’s eyes jumped up from the book to Virgil’s face.

“What?” said Virgil, feigning innocence.

Logan’s blush burned brighter, his gaze skittering away. Hesitantly, he let his mouth close, his lips wrapping around Virgil’s fingers. Just as slow, Virgil pulled back, until only his index and middle fingers were pressing down on Logan’s tongue as he swallowed. Barely dragging them across Logan’s bottom lip, he took his hand back.

There was nothing subtle about it this time; Logan’s lips chased Virgil’s fingers as he pulled away, and Virgil couldn’t have stopped himself from grinning even if he wanted to.

“Good?” he teased.

Dragging his other hand up Logan’s back, Virgil cradled the nape of his neck and Logan shivered.

“Answer me,” said Virgil gently.

“Y-yes,” said Logan, “It… it was good,”

“I’m glad,” said Virgil.

Virgil wasn’t expecting that to be something that made Logan produce a faint, breathy noise and jerk his eyes away again, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Are you done?” said Virgil.

Logan looked baffled, and… maybe a little hurt, actually, and Virgil wondered why for a moment before he realized he’d been very vague.

“With your book?” he elaborated.

Logan relaxed, and then immediately tried to pretend he hadn’t, because he was a very silly Spring.

“For the moment,” he said.

He moved to shut it, but Virgil was faster, plucking it out of Logan’s grip and setting it out of the way on the bedside table.

“Virgil,” said Logan. He sounded like he might be trying for admonishing; Virgil wasn’t convinced.

He plucked another blackberry out of the dish.

“Open,”

And _there_ was that red – one of Logan’s hands clutched at Virgil’s hoodie, the other white-knuckling the blanket.

“You’re so pretty,” said Virgil, almost on accident.

Logan shivered.

“_Virgil,_” he repeated, already breathless, and Virgil might end up ruining the game if Logan kept looking at him like that.

“_Open,” _he repeated firmly.

Another press, and the slow drag across Logan’s lip made his eyelids flutter this time. He was all red now, sunlight-warm in Virgil’s arms and pressing up against him. Virgil soothed the back of his neck.

“You looked flushed,” he said sweetly, pressing a slow kiss to the swell of Logan’s cheek. “You should take your shirt off,”

Logan gave the barest eye-roll and a short huff of laughter, but he didn’t hesitate to start fumbling for his buttons.

Virgil followed along. Another kiss to his cheek for the first button, light and chaste. Lower for the second, barely open-mouthed for the third, until when Logan’s shaking hands undid the last one and yanked off the shirt Virgil was sucking a dark bruise onto his chest.

“_Please,”_ said Logan, squirming in Virgil’s lap. Virgil smiled into his skin.

“Please what?”

“Vir-_gil_,” he whined.

Virgil laid a kiss on the bruise, sitting up.

“You know the rules,” he spoke into Logan’s neck, “You need to ask for the things you want, beloved,”

Logan squirmed a little again, running his thumb across the hem of the hoodie. His tongue darted out to wet his lip, and Virgil barely restrained himself from pressing Logan back into the bed and suckling that tongue into his mouth.

“May I have another, please?” said Logan, quiet and slightly winded.

Pressing a slow kiss to the hinge of Logan’s jaw, Virgil hummed a little when Logan let out a short, pitched moan and arched his back.

“Of course,” Virgil rumbled.

Virgil pressed against Logan’s tongue harder this time, so the fruit burst before Logan closed his mouth. Eyelids fluttering, Logan gasped, his nails scraping at Virgil’s chest through his clothes. The juice stained Virgil’s fingers, and when he took his hand away he smeared it across Logan’s lips.

Virgil had meant to leave it. It was always lovely to make Logan a little messy (or a lot, for that matter) because Virgil knew the list of people who got to see him like that was _very_ short. It was heady, taking him apart and seeing his blissed-out expression while they did it.

But the blackberry juice was purple, Virgil’s color, and Logan was already leaning towards Virgil again, his eyes lidded, and his expression so sweet and open and trusting – Virgil’s beautiful, perfect Seelie, and Virgil couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing him any more than he could have lied about wanting to.

Surging forward, Virgil licked into the wet warmth of Logan’s mouth, the taste of sweet blackberries and florid jasmine blooming on his tongue. Gasping, Logan clutched at Virgil’s shoulders, and then let out a sigh of contentment when Virgil pressed him back into the sheets.

“Please, please keep touching me,” Logan pleaded into his mouth.

Wrapping his hand around Logan’s thigh, Virgil rolled his hips forward.

Logan _keened,_ rutting against him, and Virgil’s voice came out in a startling low growl.

“So good,” he murmured into Logan’s ear, punctuating it with a sharp nip to his earlobe that made Logan’s hips stutter.

“So good for me, asking for what you want, tell me-”

“_More,”_ Logan panted, “Please, more, please, _Virgil-”_

“More what?” Virgil teased, “Harder? Faster? Do you want to make you cum like this, just grinding on my thigh?”

Logan made a choked off noise.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” said Virgil, licking a stripe up the column of Logan’s neck. “Maybe I’ll watch you come undone just like this, is that what you want?”

“I-”

Logan swallowed, clinging to Virgil’s shoulders like he was trying to anchor himself.

“Please touch my cock,” He blurted, “I want- I want your hand on me-”

Virgil cut off the end of his sentence with a short, rough kiss before leaning back just enough to get at the buttons of Logan’s pants.

It was more difficult than it ought to be – mostly because Logan couldn’t seem to hold still. When Virgil had him stripped, he sat back on his heels, running one of his hands up the outside of Logan’s hip and trailing his fingers up the sensitive inner skin of the other thigh.

Logan suddenly lurched up, and when Virgil looked back at his face it was almost dizzying. His cheeks blooming with color and his skin dewy with sweat, his irises a razor-thin ring of silver around huge night-black pupils, Logan was so beautiful that for a moment Virgil thought he would melt right there, done in by the loveliest spring thaw that ever graced the earth. He doubted he’d even have complained.

“U-up-”

Lacing his fingers with Virgil’s at his hip, Logan tugged gently.

“Up here?” he said quietly, “I- I want to kiss you, please,”

Virgil moved so quickly Logan must not have seen him, because he looked a little startled as Virgil hovered over him.

Virgil kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Of course,” he said. If his voice was a little thicker than it had been, Logan didn’t say anything.

Logan sighed into the kiss, his breath like warm May air in Virgil’s lungs. Wrapping his hand around Logan’s straining cock, Virgil ran his thumb across the head, gathering the beading precum there and starting slow, firm strokes.

The kiss stayed soft. Virgil swallowed every gasp, drank every sigh, until Logan was only panting against Virgil’s lips, open-mouthed and tasting of sunbeams and fading blackberry as Virgil sent him over the edge with a twist of his wrist.

Logan’s mouth fell open in a soundless _oh,_ his back arching and his hands clutching so tight at Virgil’s shoulders that Virgil could feel the little half-moons Logan’s nails were leaving behind even through his shirt and hoodie.

Sometimes Logan liked for Virgil to overdo it a little, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood. Whimpering, he pushed at Virgil’s hand until he stilled.

Trailed his hand through the cum painting Logan’s stomach, Virgil smiled when Logan wrinkled his nose a little.

“I’m messy,” he muttered at Virgil tipped to the side and reached for the bedside drawer.

“You love it,” Virgil said simply. Logan huffed.

As soon as Virgil turned back to him, with one of the soft cloths they kept close for just such occasions, Logan tried to press up against him. Virgil gave him a little peck.

“Be patient,” he said, “You hate when it dries,”

Logan hesitated, but then he stilled.

Virgil cleaned him up, and by the time he was done Logan was looking slightly more coherent.

“Better?”

Smiling a little, Logan nodded, tucking himself into Virgil’s side.

“I would…”

He trailed off, and Virgil waited for a few moments before kissing him on the forehead.

“Would what?” he prompted.

“I _would…_ like to go again,” said Logan, eye focused firmly on Virgil’s neckline, “If you give me a minute,”

“No rush,” said Virgil, shrugging.

“But you didn’t…”

Virgil reached up and titled Logan’s head back, kissing him a little slower.

“No-”

Another kiss.

“-Rush,”

Logan frowned, a little petulant. Virgil rolled his eyes a little.

“Some of us _are_ patient,” he said teasingly.

He flicked one of Logan’s faintly shimmering locks of hair.

“And maybe I just want to watch my pretty Seelie glow for a little while,”

Logan sputtered.

“Oh my- _Virgil,_”

“What?” Virgil replied, “You’re gorgeous and shining and I could look at you for hours,”

Logan whined, hiding his face against Virgil’s throat. He was already squirming again, though only barely. Virgil grinned into his hair.

“So no, I have no complaints,” he said, kissing the top of Logan’s head.

Logan blew out a breath, leaning back again, but keeping his eyes trained on Virgil’s collar. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was thinking something over.

“What?” Virgil prompted.

Logan fiddled with one of the strings of the hoodie.

“You-”

He cleared his throat.

“You did take very good care of me,” he said quietly, “Thank you,”

Virgil froze, all his breath leaving him at once.

Logan looked a little startled, and even more so when Virgil sat up suddenly and started pulling his hoodie off.

“What did I-”

“Put this on,” said Virgil, draping it across Logan’s naked chest.

“Um,” said Logan, sitting up as well. “Why?”

Leaning over, Virgil pressed his mouth against Logan’s ear, relishing the way Logan leaned into it, his breath already shaky again.

“Because I’m going to fuck you while you wear it,” he purred.

Logan shuddered, smiling against Virgil’s jaw.

“Please do,”

**Author's Note:**

> my smut blog is @tulipanthousa and if you send me LAOFT smut asks i will be delighted


End file.
